[Forbidden Spit] The Hounds of Rakvald

1st of Vhalar 721

With the escalation of hostilities between Etzos and Rhakros, a series of small walled towns is being established as a network of early warnings and defenses against Rhakros' reprisals. Only the very bravest and most formidable of characters should risk themselves on the Witches' Wilds frontier.

Moderator: Basilisk Snek

User avatar
Rakvald
Approved Character
Posts: 805
Joined: Fri Aug 24, 2018 11:17 pm
Race: Immortal
Profession: Degenerate Elite
Renown: 555
Character Sheet
Character Wiki
Plot Notes
Templates
Letters
Storybook
Wealth Tier: Tier 10

Featured

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Events

[Forbidden Spit] The Hounds of Rakvald






Image






1st of Vhalar 721




It was unlike Rakvald to go so long without a word spoken to anyone, even if in passing to himself. Not one for prolonged absences from society. Yet the population in the area around Etzos, and even within it seemed to be emptied of all civilized life, or extremely scaled back and cloistered behind their doors hiding from a plague that had already run its course. Yet for all that, there were whispers of insects acting unusual, pointing toward some lingering influence of the Plague Mother.

Rakvald didn't know much about many of the Immortals. Though he'd lived many incarnations, he rarely concerned himself with issues of mysticism beyond that of the dream world. And even that had fallen by the wayside, with much of his abilities in that area stripped from his grasp. So he was left with his physical strength, his arcane might, and an instinct to survive against the odds of a wilderness that very much skewed on the side of wishing to kill him.

Yet he persisted. Hunting for his own subsistence, and erecting ramshackle lean-tos when he needed sleep, or else finding a cave that was unoccupied. He learned how to live among the savagery of nature, more than he had during his time in Desnind or any of the jungles of the Southern Continent. Even his time spent in Uthaldria had been with the flock, enjoying the best aspects of civilized life among his brothers. He tracked for beasts in the wilderness, marking the shapes they left in their tracks. Finding the difference between insectoids, mammalian, and reptilian tracks was simple enough, but finding the more nuanced difference between specific families of animals was another matter.

It'd been too long since the blonde in him had tamed a wild beast. Much of his prior years had been occupied by the hunt, and of finding totems to add to his 'family. He never considered how lonely he was, when he had all the totems there, waiting to join him in the world of Idalos, to walk again, to hunt again, to speak again. It would do him good to meet another creature out there, one that wasn't immediately hostile.

So as Rakvald was dressing the meats of an animal, resting beneath a dirty shelter, torn from the earth by a storm that ripped a tree out of its roots. It made a good shelter, for the time being. He tore up the meats with his knife, one he'd managed to barter for from a man in a nearby town. There were too many tools and not enough people to wield them. The Plague, by all accounts, had ripped through the population with ease and ferocity. There was a point past the adage that one man's loss was another's misfortune. There was a point where the ability to call upon others of your kind to your aid was more valuable than any tracest or treasure they left behind.

Etzos had too much treasure, too many resources, and not enough people to enjoy it.

Rakvald finished skinning the small rabbit that had caught on one of his snares. There were other hares about, which had been trapped in his spiked pits. Perhaps he was being greedy, but then there were few enough to enjoy these morsels. He couldn't regret taking the lion's share.

Once the meats were harvested, he set out toward his destination. It was a nearby wolf pack that he'd been tracking. He wished to make of at least one of them, a willing companion. There were stragglers about the pack, that were not proper members which he'd observed. These would be the first among his targets.
word count: 628

Fleshbound Tome~
Arcane Apprentice
~
Commissions Welcome!
User avatar
Rakvald
Approved Character
Posts: 805
Joined: Fri Aug 24, 2018 11:17 pm
Race: Immortal
Profession: Degenerate Elite
Renown: 555
Character Sheet
Character Wiki
Plot Notes
Templates
Letters
Storybook
Wealth Tier: Tier 10

Featured

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Events

Re: [Forbidden Spit] The Hounds of Rakvald






Image



He must've tracked that wolf halfway across Bailey's Peninsula. Rakvald lost track of where he was going, and for the first time lost all sense of where he was. He could've been on the outskirts of Sirothelle, or Melrath for all he knew. He'd tracked the wolf for several trials, using up some of the meat himself while he was at it.

His half-mer physiology made it possible to eat the meat raw. Although mer preferred their food still writhing in agony as they dug their teeth in, he could make do with a kill that had been made a trial or so prior. Even so, it wasn't as appetizing as some meals he'd had. But it wasn't bad either. A little salt would've improved the taste, maybe some pepper...

As he dug his teeth into the flesh of that rabbit haunch, he began settling down to make a small camp. He wouldn't need a fire, and indeed it'd be a bad idea to set one this far out in the wilds, where anyone could follow the signal of the smoke, and catch him unawares. Then again, he wondered how many desperate men were driven into the wilds by Lisirra's plagues. Could any of them have survived? He chewed on that thought, along with the fat of his rabbit, while placing a few brambles beneath the trunk of an uprooted tree. Rakvald enjoyed using these trees, swept to the ground by a great storm. They were a convenient shelter. And while that also made them prime locations for nasty badgers to nest, he was confident he could deal with any such creature easily.

As yet, his luck had held and he'd yet to run into any badgers.

As he rested beneath the make-shift shelter, which he extended with a lattice of brambles and leaves, he considered what belongings he'd carried with him. The Swine King's buckle, attached to his belt. He would have to assimilate it if he was serious about his plan. It wouldn't do to leave behind for anyone to find. And he wasn't confident in his navigational skills to find a treasure he'd bury. His ax-cane too would need to be assimilated.

So, as he sat there, waiting for the sun to rest beneath the treeline, he began focusing on those items. The Embersteel girdle, the Swine King's buckle, his cane, and his robe. Not all at once, mind, but one after the other. He'd rarely done this sort of exercise with any items he owned. Usually, he did so with his totems, most often upon first dedicating them to his soul. It was a strange sensation, dedicating an item that was not at all biological in make, but fully metal.

The first item was the buckle. This, he held in his hand as he focused his ether into it. The process wasn't as slow as dedication but took almost as much concentration from second to second. Within a few bits, he'd assimilated the disc of bronze and cobalt. It melted into his hand and disappeared into his flesh. Smiling at the sensation of success, he then turned his attention to the ax-cane, the head was made of ember steel, and its shaft of hickory.

He couldn't help, as he channeled ether into it, but note its transmutational qualities. And as the sky darkened, he wished to brighten up the area some, at least where he could see what he was doing. So with a wave of his hand, and expulsion of ether, he formed a brilliant sphere between himself and the ax-cane. There, he noted its qualities. The durability of ember steel, heft, and a capacity for maintaining a sharp edge.

The cane melted into his left arm, the mass of black tentacles that was an arcane focus of sorts for the mage. There, it disappeared. He wondered idly, as these items disappeared one by one into his flesh, why he'd waited so long to indulge in experimenting with the ability. Too much to do, perhaps, not enough time to consider what was most pressing, his arcane journey of understanding.

Third, he took off the ember steel girdle, unfastening it from his waist and then holding it up against his chest. Within a few bits, it took sank into his flesh after having the ether dedicated to its material.

Finally, and lastly, he began assimilating the fine leather, sleeveless robe he wore on his outtings. It began to sink into his flesh, but before he would absorb it entirely after a few bits of concentration, willed it to surface again, and wore it once more on his body. Then, one by one, he produced each of the items he'd assimilated from his flesh. The process was swift and almost too convenient and cost him very little in the way of ether to manipulate in that way. Far less than it'd taken to assimilate them to begin with.

All that done, he dispelled the orb of brilliance that hung over his shoulder, and there, beneath the mossy outcropping of the fallen tree, he went to sleep. In the morning, he'd redouble his efforts at searching for that damned wolf.

Why the thing wasn't even the slightest curious as to why he was following it, was beyond his comprehension.
word count: 913

Fleshbound Tome~
Arcane Apprentice
~
Commissions Welcome!
User avatar
Doran
Peer Reviewer
Peer Reviewer
Posts: 3564
Joined: Sat Sep 03, 2016 3:43 am
Race: Mortal Born
Profession: Alchemist
Renown: 1162
Character Sheet
Character Wiki
Plot Notes
Templates
Letters
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 10

Re: [Forbidden Spit] The Hounds of Rakvald

Image
Rakvald:

Knowledge:
[*]Becoming: Assimilate: Embersteel Ax-cane
[*]Becoming: Assimilate: Bespoke Embersteel Girdle
[*]Becoming: Assimilate: Swine King's Buckle
[*]Becoming: Assimilate: Bespoke Sleeveless leather robe.
[*]Transmutation: Brilliance: Can form a orb of bright light.
[*]Transmutation: Quality: Heft of embersteel.

Loot: -
Lost: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: Yes, for Transmutation.
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 10
- - -
Comments: There’s something I’ve noticed when reviewing your threads. You do a great job at describing your PC’s environment and conveying the atmosphere there. Those descriptions are never the same though; you always give them a different touch, depending on the PC. I really liked your description of Etzos.

And what more, you gave us an insight into Rakvald’s psyche. I never thought that he’d ever feel lonely. He does seem lonely in this thread though!

The field craft and magic parts of this thread were well-written as well in my opinion. I appreciated that you didn’t only have Rakvald assimilate his items, but also had him notice that dedicating an item that was fully metal felt strange, for example. I’ve never considered that dedicating different items might feel different, so that was interesting to read.

The use of Transmutation fit seamlessly into that. With that being said, I hope that Rakvald will eventually find that wolf!

Enjoy your rewards!

P.S.: There were no hounds in this thread, but you mentioned a wolf at one point, so the title is fitting in my opinion, nevertheless!
word count: 249

Mutations

N/A

Blessings

N/A

Worn Items

Ring of Reversal
Ring of Immunity
Post Reply Request an XP Review Claim Wealth Thread

Return to “Outlying Cities”